


reciprocal

by symmetrophobic



Category: GOT7
Genre: Gen, M/M, basically lots of yugyeom appreciation, heaven knows we need more of that, sort of a fluffy yugyeomxeveryone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-24
Updated: 2014-11-24
Packaged: 2018-06-02 14:18:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6569620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/symmetrophobic/pseuds/symmetrophobic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>yugyeom enjoys a bizarrely nice week, and learns a little more about himself (and everyone else) along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	reciprocal

**Author's Note:**

> written for yugyeom's birthday last year! (or the year before T.T) hope everyone enjoys! >.

Yugyeom has, by all means, average perceptiveness.

He isn’t as thick as his education suggests (but Jinyoung likes to joke that his vocabulary stopped expanding at preschool) and he thinks he notices irregularities pretty quickly (all hidden cameras be damned) but as far as sensitivity to environment goes, he’s a rather happily normal person.

It’s undeniable, however, for someone even as normal as him, that something had most _definitely_ been off about this week, so much that it’s almost ridiculous, in retrospect. But Yugyeom supposes the fact that he didn’t notice at first should be a blessing. Maybe.

  
_O1. Tuesday_

Yugyeom doesn’t think much of it when Mark slings an arm over his shoulder, the younger boy wincing with the knuckles nudging against his chin because of the height difference, because the eldest member’s affectionate as anything, especially in the morning, when they’re all sleepy and snuggly and warm. They’re in the kitchen when it happens, all blundering around the tiny space in the morning, groggy with fatigue, and Yugyeom’s shot judgement can’t be _blamed_.

(At least, in his opinion.)

“Want some hot milk?”

Yugyeom rubs away the sleep grit in his eyes, still too bleary to think much of it. “We have milk?”

“Sure we do, Jinyoungie bought some the last time we went grocery shopping,” Mark says absently, filling the electric kettle with tap water. “You should grow more while you’re young.”

Jackson then swoops in with the accuracy of those only bestowed with the celestial gift of cracking opportune personal jokes, grinning as he rubs a damp towel into (whatever’s left of) his hair.

“Yeah, not like a grandpa like Marky-mark here,” he snickers, deliberately stepping between Mark and the powdered milk tub to get a cup. “Better grow all you can.”

“The way you tumble, if I’m a grandpa, I wonder what that makes you,” Mark says drily, pushing Jackson’s face out of the way with the electric kettle, before setting it on the dock and turning the power on. Jackson makes an indignant noise, and Yugyeom laughs.

“Thanks hyung,” he calls out sleepily, before meandering into the living room, feeling oddly pampered. With seven hungry boys all living in one tiny space, it’s hard enough looking out for yourself, let alone someone else. And everyone knows maknaes are the first target to push all unwanted chores and vent their pent-up emotions on, so having someone actually do something _nice_ for him- wow, that’s new.

It’s great that someone’s finally paying attention to him that isn’t in the form of _Yugyeom can you go down to the minimart and get me a rice ball_ or bodily shoves and headlocks, he eventually decides proudly. Maybe they’ve finally realized the awesomeness of Kim Yugyeom and decided to get into his goodbooks while they still can, before he becomes an amazing superstar and gets too famous to hang out with them.

(He misses the subtle fistbump under the tub of milk formula that Jackson and Mark share once he’s gone. 

“You were so obvious, though.”

“Was not. You’re just jealous he wants my milk.”

“That sounds wrong.”

“Shut _up_ , you _asshole-…_ ”)

  
_02\. Wednesday_

24 hours pass and Yugyeom is still blissfully oblivious. Mostly.

“Yugyeom!” Yugyeom looks up, surprised, in the midst of glumly sorting out all his socks on his bed, to see Youngjae beaming into his bedroom, blond hair still damp from his shower. “Want something from the convenience store?”

Yugyeom very gradually narrows his eyes. The last time anything about _convenience store_ and _Youngjae_ had come across his life, it’d mostly been the older boy narrating a long and complicated order into his ear through the phone as he attempted to juggle five people’s breakfast orders and three Styrofoam cups of coffee. Call him paranoid, but _Youngjae_ _offering_ to _buy him food_ is just beyond weird.

The other boy’s smile falters at Yugyeom’s silence. “I’m already going down, so I thought, might as well, you know?”

Yugyeom stops short in the midst of thinking of the most difficult thing to request for- Youngjae looks oddly _sincere_ (more sincere about buying other people food than he’s been in a while, anyway), and he ends up blurting _pear juice_ , and blinking when the older boy brightens up and skips away, obviously pleased to be able to help by doing something so simple.

Youngjae comes back fifteen minutes later with tripe and ddeokbokki and Yugyeom’s juice, and though Yugyeom’s pretty much freaked out by his generosity they end up cross legged in front of the television, snacking and chatting about their manager’s potential girlfriend(s) and Jackson’s new hair (or lack thereof). This carries on until Jaebum comes out of his room and makes a face at the obvious breach of diet code of conduct. He doesn’t say a thing, though (Yugyeom suspects it has something to do with Youngjae), instead shooing them off to bed, muttering about _practice_ and _interview tomorrow at ten_ and Yugyeom makes faces behind his back as they pack and throw the debris of the meal.

Youngjae looks strangely relieved as he waves goodnight, before disappearing into his room with Jaebum, grinning widely at nothing in particular.

Yugyeom, again, chooses not to think much of it as he goes into his own room, rolling his eyes as Bambam complains from under his blankets about _the_ _light it burns_ and to _just get over here already_. He’s got enough on his mind as it is, being the busy maknae of a big group, with six people (“more like one person,” Jackson would snort, and Bambam would pretend not to hear) to please and everything.

But he’s got his guard up, that’s for sure.

(“I _told_ you we shouldn’t have let Jae go second, now Yugyeom suspects us for _sure_.”

Youngjae looks down at the kitchen tiles, fidgeting nervously, and Jaebum pushes the side of Jackson’s head roughly, eliciting a yelp.)

  
_03\. Thursday_

Yugyeom doesn’t brag that he’s tall. He also notably does not brag that he’s also, in addition, the youngest, and has the potential to grow more. He most certainly does not brag about this to the shortest hyung, because this would be undoubtedly cruel.

But this also certainly doesn’t stop him from-…

“Need help, hyung?” Yugyeom snickers, reaching over Jackson to pluck the box of cereal the older boy’s reaching for, before guffawing at the completely unamused look on his face. Yugyeom can’t stop himself, though. “You want some _milk_ with that, hyung? Oh, wait, you can’t grow anymore, sorry, I _forgot_.”

But Jackson doesn’t react, doesn’t even drag him down into a headlock and try to tug out all his hair, and Yugyeom’s surprised when he just replies with a sulky _har har,_ before pouring a generous mound of cereal into his bowl.

Yugyeom wonders if he should apologise, or something. But they’ve joked about stuff like this countless times and it hasn’t affected Jackson _too_ badly, right? Heck, they make fun of Mark’s shoulders and Youngjae’s nostrils and Jinyoung’s infamous spock hair (they’re still merciless every time they come across something Star Trek related) and it’s literally almost common courtesy to exploit everyone’s physical insecurities.

This surprise carries on through the fansign they attend next, when Jackson rolls around being an idiot as per normal, except this time, noticeably, he includes Yugyeom in a lot more of his weird escapades than usual.

Which…is awfully weird.

Yugyeom knows with a startling clarity that Jackson doesn’t usually feel the need to include him in fanservice, because he has Mark and Jinyoung and Bambam (but then again Yugyeom usually has a problem with this) or, heck, even _Jaebum_ for that, and Yugyeom pretty much sucks at giving out affection as adorably as the rest of them, especially with someone else he isn’t as close to.

(Jinyoung can testify to this- forcing Yugyeom into doing fanservice with him for the hidden camera mission was, and he quotes, “like trying to be cute with a wooden block”. The fact that Yugyeom himself doesn’t try to argue with that is evidence enough, to be honest.)

But Jackson still slings an arm around his shoulder (the height difference with Mark had been obvious enough, to be honest, but Yugyeom’s kind enough not to mention it at this time) and parades the two of them around the tiny stage, much to the mirth of everyone else, to the point Yugyeom has to peel Jackson off of him once they’re out of public eye.

Yugyeom is not amused.

“What was that _even_ , hyung?” Yugyeom complains, fixing his hair in the reflective screen of Youngjae’s iPad in the van as they prepare to set off for the dorm building. Jackson turns around from his seat in the middle section, affronted.

“I was showing you _love_!” he insists, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Well then you obviously don’t know _love_ ,” Yugyeom retorts, glumly wiping away a stray eyeliner smudge with his thumb, and Jackson swells with righteous indignance as the rest of them let out a collective “ooh~”.

“I’ll have you know that I’m the best informed on _love_ ,” Jackson wiggles around to kneel on the clothed car seat. “Look, I’ll even kiss you-…”

Everyone lets out noises of protest, but none louder than their manager, who reaches behind from the driver’s seat to drag Jackson down with a steely grip and brandish the seat belt buckle in his face.

“If anyone stands up in this car again, I’ll erase meat from every future meal for a month,” Noyoung threatens, and everyone immediately buckles down, grumbling and annoyed.

Jackson’s oddly subdued through the rest of the car ride, back stiff in his seat. Yugyeom notices, sure, but then again, it isn’t often his job to deal with Jackson’s mood swings- the older boy has Mark and, when it gets really bad, Jaebum, for that. But when a sleepy Youngjae almost trips and falls going out of the van when they get back and Jackson doesn’t even crack a smile, Yugyeom thinks he might just possibly have to do something about it.

Yugyeom’s too wiped out then to form a proper conclusion to that whole weird experience, but as he’s standing under the shower that night, one dot connects itself to another and for a moment he _wonders_ -…

He holds out all the way until they’re showered and milling around restlessly, tired but anxious about routines and song lyrics, when he slumps down on the couch next to Jackson, who’s going through his rap, earbuds in.

He nudges the older boy’s thigh with his knee, prompting Jackson to take out one earbud reluctantly, mouth set as if to start complaining, but Yugyeom’s too fast for him.

“Thanks hyung,” he says quickly, like ripping off a band-aid from a cut, wanting to get it over and done with as soon as possible. He’s encouraged by the surprised look on Jackson’s face (which is sort of a frozen version of his pre-complaining expression and it’s pretty funny), and braves on. “It was nice doing fanservice with you, even though you sucked at it.”

The silence stretches for barely a split second more, in which Jackson pulls the goofiest grin Yugyeom has ever seen, but then a moment later he’s pulling his earbuds out and abandoning the lyric sheets on his lap. Yugyeom yelps and ducks away before Jackson can reach over and trap him in another infamous headlock, but the older boy chases him all the way to the kitchen, where he drags him down with the sheer force of his tiny body of concentrated willpower.

“I am fantastic at fanservice,” Jackson declares, as he sits on Yugyeom, and the maknae sighs with the air of a weary and abused parent. It’s his turn to be surprised, though, when Jackson reaches down to ruffle his hair in a way that, for once, is a lot more affectionate than it is painful. “And you are too, kid.”

“Wow, uhm, thanks,” Yugyeom squirms. “Now uh, can you get off me hyung?”

Yugyeom definitely does not miss the victory sign that Jackson flashes into his room once they separate to go to bed, and rolls his eyes good naturedly as he disappears into his own room.

He wonders if he should try to get an explanation for all this out of the lump on the bed next to his, currently buried under blankets and pretending to be sleeping, but he decides it wouldn’t hurt to let them have their fun.

(“Who’s the obvious one _now_?” Jinyoung retorts, a protective arm around Youngjae’s back, and Jaebum chuckles derisively.

“We’ll see _you_ do better tomorrow,” Jackson responds, pouting, and Mark grimaces.)

  
_04\. Friday_

The claim that they all know each other perfectly well is false and flawed as anything, because Yugyeom learns all sorts of things about his dormmates every day. One of them is that Jinyoung knows no subtlety.

“Yugyeommie!” Jinyoung launches himself from halfway across the kitchen, almost bowling Yugyeom and the innocent passer-by Mark over, and he drapes an arm around the younger boy’s shoulder, and _yep_ , something’s definitely off. _Jinyoung_ choosing _him_ over _Mark?_ That’s like, blasphemy.

“Hyung,” Yugyeom greets, trying not to get _all_ his hair pulled off his head, and Jinyoung carefully steers him around, to where something delicious is sizzling on the stove.

“Want some kimchi pancakes? I’m making some now,” Jinyoung simpers, pinching Yugyeom’s cheeks, and the maknae squirms out of his grip.

“Hyung’s _offering_ to _make me food_?” Yugyeom pretends to sound incredulous (he doesn’t have to do much pretending, to be frank), as he peers over at the pancakes.

Jinyoung, however, is frowning a little, eyes questioning.

“I make food for everyone all the time, don’t I?” he says dismissively. “I make _jjigae_ for Jaebum-hyung and Youngjae, and that time I prepared _all_ of Bambam’s meals when he fell sick, and Mark always eats my red bean cookies, and Jackson steals enough of my cooking for it to be considered a lifetime of actual meals-…”

“Yeah, but you never cook for _me_ ,” Yugyeom laughs, walking over to the fridge to get a bottle of orange juice. He’s downed half the tiny bottle, wincing at the sour bite of citrus on his tongue, before he realises Jinyoung’s silent, standing still, and he looks over, trying to lick pulp off his thumb.

“I’ve never…” Jinyoung looks like he’s thinking so hard that it’s almost comical. “…made food for you?”

“Well, not for me _specifically_ , but you’ve made food for all of us loads of times,” Yugyeom feels a little uncomfortable now, regretting that he’d brought the conversation down this way. “That counts.”

Jinyoung’s eyes widen, before he frowns. “No it doesn’t!”

He crosses the kitchen in two strides, before wrapping a possessive arm around Yugyeom’s shoulders (what _is it_ with all these short hyungs and them trying to telescope his spine, honestly) and dragging him over to the stove. “Well, I’m making food for you now, so you can’t say anything about it anymore, right?!”

“Yeah, sure, not like I was actually saying anything, anyway,” Yugyeom mutters, trying to extricate himself from Jinyoung’s iron grip.

He almost stumbles when the older boy’s hold on him softens suddenly, and he looks over to see Jinyoung staring hard at the pancakes, as though trying to burn holes in them with his eyes.

“Uhm,” Yugyeom says eloquently. “Hyung?”

“If…” Jinyoung seems to be struggling to string words together. “If you ever want me to make something for you to eat…you know you just have to ask _,_ right?”

“Yeah, but-…” Yugyeom starts laughing, but something about the look in Jinyoung’s eyes makes him cut short the comment that _I don’t need you to make me stuff to eat, hyung_. Instead, he forces a smile, hoping it doesn’t look too strained- he’s never smiled like this at Jinyoung before. “Thanks, hyung. Now I know who to go to when I want a snack, heh.”

Jinyoung beams, satisfied. “Now go to the living room and sit down! It’ll be ready soon!”

Yugyeom’s chivvied off to the table, balancing his juice precariously, and reluctantly downs the rest of it as he sits and waits, thinking wistfully about the empty bathroom and of how he could be showering before Bambam gets in and uses up all the hot water.

He can’t complain, though, once he’s tucking into a steaming plate of killer kimchi pancakes (his first substantial breakfast in a good few years) and watching triumphantly as Jackson and the other peasants are left to trudge into the kitchen to mooch leftovers off of the group’s umma.

Chewing victoriously, he decides that maybe, just maybe, missing the hot water was worth it.

(“Who’s superior? Who?”

“Me, obviously.”

“Shush, Bambam, you don’t count.”)

  
_05\. Saturday_

Four hours into cramming practice for their routine, Yugyeom curls into a foetal position in the middle of the studio, attempting to soak up all the coolness from the floor. He decides it would be best for his health to pronounce himself temporarily dead to the world due to exhaustion- he doesn’t even flinch when Jackson blunders by and trips over his long legs, before starting to swear irritably (he knows it’s him because of the following colourful explosion of Cantonese cuss words).

Yugyeom pretends not to notice when he feels a toe insistently prodding his butt. It’s Jaebum this time, and he knows this because Jaebum apparently doesn’t know any other way to wake people up (this is probably why Mark’s replaced him as Youngjae’s morning alarm buddy), and if it’s Jaebum then it’s probably something dreary and mundane like _let’s go over the routine again_ or _are you sure that’s permitted on your diet_ -…

“Wanna skip out on practice tonight?”

Yugyeom blinks awake.

_Who are you and what have you done with Im Jaebum._

“Huh?”

Jaebum laughs, sitting down heavily beside Yugyeom and reaching over to rub a hand against the small of his back. Yugyeom feels oddly childlike at the familiar gesture. And it feels kinda nice.

“Okay, maybe not _skip_ , more like stay back for a while?” Jaebum grins. “You and me, one on one. Just like old times.”

“Jinyoung-hyung might get jealous,” Yugyeom says, trying not to smile, eyes half-closed, and Jaebum prods him particularly hard.

“ _Brat,_ ” he laughs, poking Yugyeom in all his sensitive areas, and the maknae wiggles away, trying to avoid the leader’s prying hands. “ _Dance battle,_ or have you forgotten how to dance?”

To any normal person, asking them to stay back to dance after a day of just dancing would be stupid, probably verging on insane, but then again, Yugyeom’s insane when it comes to dance.

He turns back halfway to sneak a grin. “You’re on, hyung. Hope your joints still work good enough to dance, _grandpa._ ”

“We’ll see who gets left behind later, _maknae_ ,” Jaebum pushes him back down none-too-gently, as he stands to call practice back on, and Yugyeom flops over, stomach twisting in anticipation.

It’d been a sort of ritual for the two of them before debut, to head down to the basement studio and put whatever they wanted on the speakers, “JYP style music” out the window, and challenge each other to dance-offs and impromptu choreography. Out of the six other members, Jaebum was the only other one who’d danced a specific freestyle before joining the company and being forced to adapt to mainstream choreography, and Yugyeom had always felt an odd connection with the older boy in this aspect. They danced for the _art_ of it- not the entertainment value, not the money, but they danced because they _wanted_ to dance.

Practice ends early ( _leader privileges_ , Jaebum waggles his eyebrows at Yugyeom and the maknae scoffs), and Yugyeom rushes through his packing, grinning at Bambam and telling him to go ahead and sleep first, before tearing out the door after Jaebum, sending Youngjae spinning into the water cooler, energy suddenly back in full force.

“I’m home!” Yugyeom calls out blissfully, arms spread, to the empty studio, once they get in, and Jaebum laughs as he turns on the lights and air-conditioning. It’s odd, like rereading a really good book from a long time ago, and Yugyeom likes it, he likes the feeling of coming back to all this.

They fall back into routine slowly- Yugyeom resumes with the makeshift house dance lessons and Jaebum does the same with b-boying, and as usual, it ends with Jaebum stumbling and tripping and Yugyeom eagle-spread on the floor, having given up and resigned himself to eternal self-deprecating laughter.

Yugyeom half-heartedly attempts a tumble that ends with him almost twisting his ankle and knee and shattering several ribs, and Jaebum shoves him over to the couch to take a break. They’re perspiring and gulping down water and listening to the sound of some heavy foreign rap on the speakers when Jaebum turns the volume down, tossing a towel over to Yugyeom, who regards it suspiciously.

“It’s nice,” Yugyeom finally announces, after sniffing the towel and deciding that it’s safe for use. “That you’re not _too_ busy to spend time with us after all, hyung.”

Jaebum laughs. “You say that like I don’t spend time with you guys at all.”

Yugyeom inhales in a hiss, raising an eyebrow. “Well, I hate to break it to you, hyung, but uh-…”

“You’re making me feel like a terrible leader,” Jaebum’s laugh is breathier this time, and Yugyeom bites back the cutting comment he’d been about to make.

“You’re not,” Yugyeom blurts, a little too loudly and too quickly. “You’re the best leader ever. I wouldn’t want anyone else leading us.”

Jaebum turns, a genuinely surprised smile on his face, and Yugyeom feels his own cheeks burn with embarrassment.

“Is that so?”

“You could be nicer, though,” Yugyeom tries to save himself, but Jaebum obviously isn’t about to let him change the subject so easily, and he strides over to pinch the maknae’s cheeks vindictively, chuckling and cooing. Yugyeom sits there, sulking, as he accepts the abuse reluctantly.

Yugyeom can’t help but speak up again, though, as they’re packing up to leave a little earlier this time, so Jinyoung won’t start up a nagging storm about how children should sleep early and all the health benefits of maintaining a regular sleep cycle.

“You won’t leave, though, hyung?” he says, almost nervously, watching Jaebum carefully for a reaction. “I mean, not like-…”

It’s unsaid, but the smile on Jaebum’s face softens slightly, as he clicks off the lights and goes over to where Yugyeom’s holding the door open for the two of them. “Never. Don’t even think about it.”

Yugyeom lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, tension in his shoulders unwinding, and follows Jaebum out the door, casually poking the older boy in the calves with his shoes as they walk.

“You know I’m never letting that go, though,” Jaebum grins, as they climb up the stairs.

“ _Hyung!_ ” Yugyeom whines, but it’s a relief, and he supposes he should feel grateful, for now, at least.

(“You’ve got a lot to live up to,” Jaebum announces that night, and Bambam sighs, rolling his eyes.

“Please, of everyone in this room, who knows him best? Boyfriend or regular friends?”

“Definitely nervous,” Mark comments, and the rest of them snicker.)

  
_06\. Sunday_

It’s funny that when Yugyeom’s expecting it now, nothing happens.

They get the night off (it being Sunday and all and the fact that they’re overworked and underpaid labour) and Yugyeom lounges rather happily on his bed, catching up on anime and new choreography releases from the World of Dance live recordings, and no one comes in with _want some food_ or _let’s hang out together_ and it’s a little strange.

Especially when you think about the only person left who hasn’t yet tried to become Yugyeom’s new best friend.

Yugyeom almost doesn’t expect it when the door swings open carelessly, and shuts behind whoever’s come into the room. He tenses a little at that, because only one person shuts the door behind them when they come in, and he only does that when he’s about to-…

He has barely a second after a telltale rustle of fabric to brace himself, before there’s a battle cry from somewhere vaguely above and behind him, and something hits him with a velocity and force of a kitten WMD.

“Augh,” Yugyeom struggles. He can hear laughter from behind him- a slender hand knocks his laptop lid shut and a pair of arms wind tight around his neck and shoulders, imprisoning him in a terrifying back hug.

“Got you,” that someone says, giggling, and Yugyeom almost rolls his eyes. Almost.

“Oh no, someone help, I’ve been attacked by a vicious assailant, I think he’s going to kill me,” he drones, and winces when a palm lands against his shoulder with a sound _smack_ , before roughly tugging his face around and for said vicious assailant to press a kiss on his lips. Something stirs from the bottom of Yugyeom’s heart and bubbles out at the sensation- _wow_ , he’s missed this. They separate much too soon for Yugyeom’s liking, and he grumbles, reluctantly falling back against the mattress, blinking as the silhouette against the ceiling light comes into focus.

“Happy birthday,” Bambam laughs, and Yugyeom grins, before crowing.

“I knew it!” he twists his body, and the older boy yelps as the tables are turned, and Yugyeom pins him to the mattress, triumphant. “I knew this had something to do with this! Man, you guys are terrible.”

“On the contrary,” Bambam says in English, seeming affronted, and Yugyeom wonders if he should tell him not to spend so much time with Jackson from now on. “We were awesome hyungs.”

Yugyeom snorts. “Well, it wouldn’t hurt to be an awesome hyung all year round, you know.”

“Aww, I’m sorry, they’re too busy babying _me_ to pay attention to anyone else,” Bambam grins cheekily, before pulling Yugyeom’s face down for another kiss, one that lasts a lot longer this time. Yugyeom savours it- he hasn’t had the chance to do this in forever, not with schedule and five other hyungs who’ve all had it up to here with PDA already (he blames Jackson and Mark-hyung for that), and when they separate for air later, he does it contentedly. Bambam’s smiling, though, soft hands cradling Yugyeom’s face. “By default, I have to pamper you, then.”

“And you’ve been doing a _wonderful_ job so far,” Yugyeom raises an eyebrow, and Bambam smacks him again.

“Was that _sarcasm_?”

“Yes.”

Bambam attacks him with his legs, wrapping them around his waist and pulling him down like an MMA fighter, and though Yugyeom honestly could’ve held out a lot longer (really, because having Bambam attack him is like being plowed by an excited baby deer. It’s really cuter than it is anything), he lets Bambam topple him, pretending to call out in distress, and it’s all harmless play-fighting until Yugyeom manages to get a hand under the hem of the older boy’s oversized graphic tee and Bambam lets out a sharp squeal.

Yugyeom’s merciless then, straddling him and pinning him to the mattress with his knees, attacking all of the other boy’s sensitive spots, and Bambam struggles in vain, laughing all the way.

This carries on (and would’ve carried on until Bambam begged for mercy) until a series of loud threatening knocks against their room door sound, and Yugyeom stumbles off in a panic, cheeks fast turning red.

“Bambam I _said_ , not until he’s _legal_ -…”

“We weren’t even-…” Bambam splutters loudly, before glaring at the door. “And Jinyoung-hyung, why’d you even think it was _me_ , I’m the _victim_ here!”

Five people snort simultaneously outside their door.

“Were they _listening_?” Yugyeom gapes, and Bambam shrugs, apparently still upset that Jinyoung would accuse him of trying to violate his boyfriend and completely disregarding the fact that five of their friends were eavesdropping on a very private conversation.

“Come on, fess up, how far’d you get him to strip?”

“ _Jackson-…_ ”

“What?!”

“Some birthday _this_ is,” Yugyeom complains, and the squabbling dims almost immediately, throwing the room into a rather uncertain silence.

It’s broken when the door bangs open with the force of a nail bomb and five extremely excited boys barge in, and before Yugyeom can even say _stop this is child abuse_ he’s plowed over and onto the bed, before quickly becoming the bottom of a dog pile.

He struggles glumly for a while as Bambam happily adds himself at the top, and it’s a few seconds of bony elbows and knees in awkward places before they break out into a messy chorus of _Happy Birthday Yugyeommie_ ~.

“Did you like it?” Youngjae asks the air eagerly, from somewhere under Mark, and Yugyeom makes a squashed sound.

“I’m not sure if _eghh_ is a good or bad thing,” Jackson muses, and Jaebum grumpily shoves the other boy’s feet out of his face.

“Did you feel happy? Relaxed?” Jinyoung asks worriedly, no mean feat for someone currently buried under three grown teenage boys. Yugyeom rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, I sure feel relaxed now,” he deadpans into the mattress, and Youngjae starts laughing. The vibrations effectively topple everyone above him and tickle everyone below him, so they all kind of dissemble into a messy tangle of seven sets of arms and legs on Yugyeom’s bed.

Bambam crawls over to Yugyeom, propping himself neatly on the younger boy’s stomach to look anxiously into his eyes. “You…you did enjoy it, though?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Yugyeom says, a little breathless, partially because he’s recovering from almost being compressed into diamond and partially from having Bambam stare into his eyes with such intensity. “It was great, you guys never do this stuff for me, I felt like a celebrity, hah.”

Jinyoung extricates himself out from under Jackson’s thighs, then, to give Yugyeom that same look he’d given him in the kitchen the other day, except Yugyeom actually knows what it is now- it’s guilt, tinged with an edge of worry.

“Would you want us to-…to do more of it?”

Now Yugyeom can’t say he would particularly mind if they _didn’t_ \- after all, he’d kind of been living three years without special attention and he’s _survived_ , per se, but it’s the look in their eyes after Jinyoung says that, tentative and restless and apologetic, that pushes him to smile.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think I’d really like that.”

Jackson rolls over, almost pushing Jinyoung off the bed and eliciting an angry yelp. “Don’t get too used to it, though-…” he pulls the collar of Yugyeom’s shirt, and the younger boy wearily accepts his headlock. Jackson taps his nose sweetly. “You’re still our free labour and punching bag, you know that, don’t you?”

“Don’t say that, you _idiot_ , it’s his birthday,” Mark puts a foot in Jackson’s face, and Yugyeom flashes a grateful thumbs-up at him.

Jackson wriggles out of the way violently, then, accidentally pushing Youngjae off the bed and almost causing him to fracture his skull, and Jinyoung wraps a secure arm around the teary vocal, rubbing at the injured spot on his head with his hand, while Jaebum shoves Jackson off the bed in turn.

This cues a pillow fight, which Bambam joins delightedly and drags a reluctant Yugyeom into as well, and by some ridiculous means unsuitable for documentation this leads to vigorous impromptu dancing to 2pm and Wonder Girls songs from Mark’ iPod speakers until they’re all exhausted and panting and hanging off various bits of furniture.

Yugyeom glances at the clock, and starts a little when he realises he’s been seventeen for a whole forty minutes already. He’s staring at the ceiling when a brief shock of inspiration seems to pound through his veins, and for a moment he _wonders_ -…

_Would I change anything if I could?_

But then Jaebum totters up and almost steps on Jackson’s crotch accidentally when he’s trying to order everyone to go to bed, and the room explodes into indignant angry shouting and laughter (mostly laughter, and mostly by Mark) and as Yugyeom grabs Bambam’s hand and pulls him out of the way of a stampeding Jackson, he decides-…

_Nah._

He’s quite sure he wouldn’t have them any other way.

  
 


End file.
